Rachel Hawkins - Grim

“No, Dina, wait,” Clara said, but it was too late. Her sister had brushed past her and out of the house. Clara watched Dina storm across the lawn, until the sound of scrabbling behind her made her turn. Her mother was sifting through the flowers at her feet. She came up with a palmful of gems. The smile that she gave Clara was hungry.

“We’s gonna be rich, ” she announced gleefully.

The heavy feeling in Clara’s stomach grew.

Across the street, Dina pounded on Mrs. Swanson’s door.

Clara and her mother watched through the window as the door opened.

“God, if she can do this to both of you, I’ll be the happiest woman on earth,” her mom said.

Clara winced, but she kept her mouth shut, for any number of reasons.

The old woman’s face appeared in the doorway.

“Let me in,” Dina demanded.

“I—I don’t understand.” Mrs. Swanson gripped the door frame.

“Your grandson. He’s still here?”

Nick’s face appeared over Mrs. Swanson’s shoulder. “I am. What do you want? Sloppy seconds?” He smirked at her.

“You fucking wish,” Dina spat.

“Language! Please!” Mrs. Swanson said, shocked. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk about all of this like civilized people?”

“I’m not coming into this house ever again. You may have convinced my sister not to say anything, but I’m not the nice girl in the family.” Dina’s gaze cut through Nick and he shrank beneath it.

“Nothing happened,” Mrs. Swanson insisted.

“Don’t lie to me. That bastard hurt my sister, and I’m not about to let him get away with it!”

Mrs. Swanson pasted her hand across Dina’s mouth, not hard enough to be called a slap, but hard enough that it stung.

“Your sister is a good girl who understands that Nick made a mistake, and I rewarded her for it.” Dina tried to swat the old woman’s hand away from her mouth, but she found herself unable to lift her hand, unable to step away, unable to move at all. “You, though.” Mrs. Swanson’s eyes narrowed. “You have a nasty attitude, and from now on, you’ll have a gift to match. Snakes and toads from your serpent-tongued mouth, that’s what you’ll have. Now get off my porch.” Mrs. Swanson peeled her hand from Dina’s mouth and slammed the door in her face.

Dina’s stomach churned. She wouldn’t have believed the threat, but she’d seen Clara spitting rubies onto the floor at home. Still, she wasn’t going to let that slimebag get away with assaulting her sister. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed 911.

When the operator asked what her emergency was, Dina said, “My sister and I have been assaulted.”

The snakes hit the ground in front of her with a tiny thud that made her wince. They raised their heads and looked at her before slithering off into Mrs. Swanson’s bushes. Dina expected to feel disgusted. She waited for her stomach to roil. Instead, the operator asked her where she was, and Dina told her, calmly catching the tiny frog that leaped from her lips along with Mrs. Swanson’s address. The frog wrapped one of its feet around her finger and she set it in the grass.

When the police were on their way, Dina walked back across the street to get Clara, to force her to come tell her side of the story.

Her mother threw open the door as Dina stepped up to it. “What happened?” she asked eagerly.

“I called the police,” Dina said. The snake that fell with her words slithered into the house, which was an unfortunate occurrence. Her mother shrieked. “Don’t say anything else! Jesus. Just—just shake your head yes or no. She didn’t give you the same...same thing she gave Clara?”

Dina shook her head.

“And you called the police? ”

Dina nodded emphatically.

“Oh, my God.” Her mother yanked her into the house. “We have to hide Clara.”

“ What? We can’t hide her! That’s who they need to talk to!” This time, rather than fall to the floor, the snake that escaped her lips gently wound itself around Dina’s neck. It did not make her nervous—in fact, its cool weight against her collarbone was soothing somehow. Her mother clearly didn’t feel the same way, since she scuttered into the corner of the kitchen. Clara sat in one of the wooden chairs with a bucket in her lap. She looked up at Dina.

“Why do they need to talk to me?” A shower of tiny diamonds accompanied her words.

Dina gaped at her. “Because of what Nick did to you?”

Her mother thrust a bucket at her, just catching a toad as it fell. “For God’s sake. Talk over the bucket. Jesus.”

“It doesn’t matter what Nick did to me,” Clara said. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Yes, it was!” Dina insisted. “You can’t just let people like that walk around in the world.”

The sound of gems and reptiles hitting the plastic of their respective buckets punctuated their words, and the truly strange nature of the situation washed over Dina. She sat heavily in a chair next to Clara.

“Clara is not talking to the police,” her mother insisted. “She can’t.”

“Why not?” Dina asked, horrified.

Her mother looked at her like she had lost her mind. “Because they will take her away. They’re not going to overlook a girl with jewelry dropping out of her mouth. They’ll take her away, and I need her. Do you hear me?” Her mother’s eyes were wild now, her fingers curled tight around the edge of the countertop.

Dina looked at the bucket in Clara’s lap. She knew exactly what her mother meant. Clara was her mom’s ticket out of debt and out of this crappy house and into an endless supply of whiskey.

“What about you?” she asked Clara, catching the tiny snake as it fell and wrapping it around her wrist like a bracelet. “What do you want to do?”

Down the street, Dina could hear the wail of a siren.

Clara’s eyes widened. “I don’t want anyone to take me away. I don’t want any of this.”

“Both of you, get back in your bedroom.” Their mother shambled toward the door. “I’ll handle this.”

“You’ll get arrested,” Dina said. Since their mother had been arrested at least three times that Dina could remember, she was pretty sure the self-righteous look her mother shot her was unwarranted.

“You just stay back there, and for God’s sake, dump that bucket of vermin in the backyard before they escape into my house!”

Dina put an arm around Clara and guided her back to their room. The rhythm of Clara’s heartbeat thudded beneath Dina’s hand, too fast.

“Shhhh,” Dina soothed her. “It will be okay.”

Clara bit her lips, as though she couldn’t bear to say anything. She shook her head, and tears welled in her eyes. Dina half lowered her sister onto her bed and then crept toward the window. She lifted one of the slats of the closed blinds and peered outside. Her mother stood in the middle of the yard, her hands on her hips, gesturing wildly.

The cops were looking from Mrs. Swanson’s house to her mother and back, and their faces became more stern with each passing second. One of them began to fiddle with his handcuffs. He was not looking at Mrs. Swanson’s house while he did.

Clara sidled up next to Dina and peered out through the blinds. “I have to go out there and stop her, before she gets herself in trouble.”

Dina looked at her sister. Clara’s eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks had paled. There was a new chip in one of her front teeth, and Dina winced when she realized Clara had probably broken it on one of the jewels.

“You stay here,” Dina said. “I’ll take care of it.”

Clara gripped her arm. “But—if the police see you...see what’s happening...”

“I said I’ll take care of it.” Dina set down her bucket and took Clara’s hand off her arm. She walked out into the yard, sighing as her mother rounded on her.